


Bad Blood

by hati_skoll



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark, Dark Agenda, Drug Dealing, Gangs, Graphic Description, Human Trafficking, M/M, Murder, Serial Killers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hati_skoll/pseuds/hati_skoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren lives to kill; Levi kills to live. When the psychopathic murderer meets the sociopathic crime lord, a dark attraction blooms underneath a rain of blood, death and violence. Crime syndicates, law enforcement agencies, politicians, the world's a dark, dirty place. Killing, blackmail and torture's all part of the courtship, and these men will stop at nothing in the pursuit of their lovely, twisted pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>Warning: Very, very dark themes. Very, very screwed up characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ambrosia

**Author's Note:**

> Read the warning. These people follow a moral compass that points a different North.

Blood oozed out of torn flesh, like sugar-glazed cherry filling spilling out from freshly baked pie. Rust-stained blond hair, wet and matted, plastered to the dead man's skull; skin white, purple-blue undertones stark in the ghostly moonlight, glowed with the sweet perfection of death.

It wasn't enough. It didn't complete him. He'd told himself that this was the last time, that he'd give himself one last chance to indulge in his fierce, desperate desires, that it would all be over. But he'd told himself those things over and over again. It just wasn't enough. He wanted- no, needed, to kill. He needed to purge this world of all its evils, all its smug cruelty, and all its twisted justice.

And the world needed him. He would cut down all its terrible men, with his own hands. He would slay them for his mother, who died at their dirty, tainted hands; for his father, whom they fed to the dogs; for his sister, who was almost sold to some disgusting pig out there.

He would rend them apart as they did his father, he would slice their necks as his mother had been forced to slice hers. He would build a monument for his parents carved from the flesh and bones of these men who had spat on them. He would immortalize his parents' love in the pain and suffering of all who had a hand in their tormenting.

"Eren, you made a mess again," the voice, almost chastising, came soft and affectionate from the depths of the shadows.

He glanced down briefly, at his blood-drenched clothes, even his boots were soaked through. He didn't care; they were replaceable. It wasn't too easy to remain clean when dealing with the filth of humanity.

"He struggled, he made a mess of himself," Eren replied with a shrug.

Mikasa easily approached him, carefully picking her way across the bloodied spots, bits of spilled guts and viciously ripped organs. His face felt sticky-dry, like crusting blood. Eren vigorously rubbed at his cheeks with the heel of his palms. He pulled his hands away, and they were stained an angry rust-red.              

"Don't do that," Mikasa told him, producing a couple of wet wipes, before gently dabbing at his face, "You'll hurt yourself."

"I don't care," he said unthinkingly.

She slapped him, hard. And Eren glared at his sister, raising a hand to his stinging cheek.

"I care, so start caring about yourself. You could slaughter the rest of the world, you could hurt and kill hundreds and thousands, and I'd be happy if you were. But don't you ever think of hurting yourself."

"What if I wanted to hurt Armin? What if I wanted to hurt you?"

She smiled, "Do you?"

"I don't. Well, sometimes, when you annoy me, I'd want to hit you. But I wouldn't carve into, or tear out of, you. Not to Armin either," he paused, "But I might, one day. What about then?"

"If Eren wants to hurt Armin, then Eren should hurt Armin. If Eren wants to kill me, then Eren should kill me. I wouldn't stop you from doing anything you really wanted, as long as you're happy and safe."

He laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound, "I've killed and killed, but it doesn't fill me up. There's this hunger in the pits of my stomach, and it's telling me to kill. Kill those bastards that made our lives hell. And I kill them, but I hunger all the same."

"Then eat, eat and stay alive. I won't let you starve to death, Eren."

He threw the knife down, blood sloshing against the hem of his pants

"Doesn't it bother you that humans are my prey?"

"Are you bothered?"

He looked at the mangled body, feeling nothing of guilt or regret, "No."

"Then I'm not bothered either," Mikasa offered him a fresh set of clothes, "Although, it would help if you didn't leave your prints all over the place."

"Will they catch me this time?"

She shook her head, "We’ll have everything disappear, you know that, Eren."

"What if I told you not to? What if I told you to leave me be?"

"I won't let you be taken away. Not even if you wanted it."

"I'm not your baby brother, Mikasa. You don't have to keep babying me," he said, almost tiredly, "The food doesn't satisfy me without the thrill of the hunt."

"It's foolishness. You'd risk your neck just to toy with some weak, pathetic cop, who'd die anyway without our help. You're worth more than that."

He shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, "Whatever. I'm leaving."

"Change out before you go on the streets. Berthold's waiting in the car, and Armin is arranging for clean-up and garbage disposal."

He didn't respond to that, merely shrugged out of his shirt and pants, carelessly throwing on what Mikasa had brought him. The army green cotton T-shirt fell loosely over olive-tanned, leanly defined abs, neckline dipping in a teasing flash of his collar bones. Deep chocolate brown pants clung to his hips and ass. They were uncomfortable, but he didn't complain. Because he couldn't be bothered to shop for himself, and Mikasa did his shopping for him.

The unsalvageable clothes fell into the blood and chunks of human in a thick, wet splat. Unlacing his boots, Eren padded over to the door where a brand-new pair of high-top sneakers sat. He slipped off the boots, tossing them into the carnage-laden room, putting on the new shoes. They fit like a glove, like he knew they would.

"Eren, you look better than you have in weeks," Reiner greeted him with a brotherly pat.

"Just needed to get things out of my system."

Reiner peered over his shoulder and into the room, before letting out a low whistle, "Damn Eren, Clean-up's going to be a hassle. Armin's getting rid of all evidence on tape and fabricating alibis for you, but I'm in charge of the physical side of things, you know."

"Sorry," Eren muttered, showing his first signs of remorse.

The taller man only gave him a rueful grin and a friendly shove, "Don't feel bad. You couldn't help yourself, we get it."

"Where's Berthold?"

"Two streets down. He'll be in his blue Bentley."                            

"Your blue Bentley, you mean."

"We don't draw a line between what is his and what is mine," Reiner shrugged.

"Lovebirds," Eren replied in mock disgust, "Shit, I'm beat. See you later, Reiner. I need to catch up on my z's."

"Go ahead, we'll have everything removed before dawn."

"I know," Eren said, almost unhappily.

 Berthold was waiting as Mikasa and Reiner said he would be, lounging in the driver's seat, tapping his fingers against the wheel. Eren rapped on the tinted windows, and there was a click indicating that the doors were unlocked. He slid in beside the other man, silent as death.

 "Had a good night, Eren?" the man asked lightly.

"Good," he barked out ironically, almost laughing.

The guy just shrugged, “Entertaining then, you look like you had fun.”

“I cut open my prey’s stomach and dragged out his intestines, and it was like pulling an endless train of handkerchiefs out of a magician’s hat.”

“Good, good,” Berthold replied, manoeuvring through the streets with only one hand on the wheel.

Eren allowed his head to fall back on the headrest. The pressure in his chest that had been suffocating him for weeks was gone, that little voice urging him to spill blood now silent. He peeled off the latex gloves he’d always worn on nights like this.

“Not in the car,” Berthold said, seeing Eren’s intent to toss them.

He scrounged them up and stuffed them in his pocket instead. And they left an unsightly bulge in his tight-fitting pants.

Berthold hummed unapologetically, “Sorry Eren, but this car set us back a few hundred.”

“I know. Reiner’s been boasting for days.”

“Business has been pretty hot. Hard times send people looking for unnatural highs.”

“Mikasa said everyone’s getting a fat bonus for this month.”

“Sweet,” Berthold whistled, “Heard from Armin that the recent arms deal we clinched bagged a hefty amount too.”

Eren shrugged, “He was worried about trading with the Razvedka group, we’ve been keeping clear of them for as long as we remember, and they’ve been around longer than we have. Any interaction might tilt the balance to foe or ally.”

“Armin’s a sweet-talker, I bet he handled them just fine.”

“The guy was apparently a tough nut to crack, according to Armin. Mikasa’s pretty cool with their leader, but she hated his second-in-command on sight.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of him. Levi.”

Eren arched a brow, “Levi…”

“No last names,” Berthold cracked a grin, “Guy’s got a reputation for being the deadliest killer out there. They nicknamed him Humanity’s Strongest behind his back.”

Eren tested the name out sardonically, “Humanity’s Strongest. Good joke.”

“It is,” the other man chuckled, “The way you’ve been titled ‘Last Hope’.”

“I can’t remember how that came about in the first place.”

“I can,” Berthold hooted out a laugh, “Remember Singapore? Sunny island, good food, sand and sea. Ring any bells?”

“Right, some assholes betrayed us and made away with our money. We managed to hunt them down to Singapore.”

“That’s not half the story. They pissed themselves when Mikasa caught up with them, and they pleaded with you, but-“

“I killed them,” Eren laughed, a fierce, unyielding sound, “All of them. It got pretty messy, and those little shits went bone-white after I’d finished with the first guy.”

“And you had been their ‘Last Hope’ too.”

“They deserved it,” he shrugged.

Berthold made a face, “Well, Reiner and I didn’t. Cleaning up after you was a bitch.”

“Thought you guys were used to it after hanging around me for years.”

“We’re used to it, but it’s still a bitch,” Berthold said in good humour.

They’d arrived at their apartment block. And Eren jumped out of the Bentley the moment Berthold had it parked. Most of the cars were sitting idly in their lots, save for Mikasa’s Ferrari and Armin’s Mercedes, which meant that almost everyone was home. Annie came striding into view, sharp, brisk steps that warned anyone who knew her of her sour mood.

“Annie, what’s up?” Eren raised a hand in greeting.

She glared at him, and his smiled withered.

“The question, is not ‘what’, Eren, but ‘who’,” the blonde snapped, “It’s three in the morning, am I usually up at three in the morning?”

He blinked, looking at an equally confused Berthold for clues, “No?”

“Exactly, and why do you think I’m up at this ungodly hour?”

Annie worked a day job in some government office Eren didn’t know about. She was the go-to person when official information needed to be created or destroyed. Additionally, she took commissions on the side, for a hefty price. So if Annie was up and looking ready to rip someone a new asshole at three A.M., things didn’t look too good.

“No clue, really?” she raised a brow, “I always thought you _acted_ like a dumb shit, Eren. I didn’t think you actually _are_ one.”

Berthold’s phone abruptly rang, and the larger man quietly took it, expression unchanging as he whispered furiously into the handset.

“Eren, you should go to bed, you haven’t been sleeping much these days,” Berthold said, after he ended the call.

“All right, what did I do this time?”

The man smiled, perfectly pleasant, “Weren’t you complaining about how tired you were? I’ve got to go fetch Reiner, so you should go up on your own.”

Annie rolled her eyes, aiming her car keys in the loose direction of her Lamborghini, “Not ‘what’, Eren, ‘who’.”

Shit. “Who did I do?”

“Erd Gin,” Berthold told him after a moment of deliberation, almost glaring at the acerbic blonde.

“Also Known As Levi’s right-hand amongst the Razvedka,” Annie laughed pointedly.

Eren looked between the both of them. Berthold appeared torn between resignation and annoyance, and Annie amusedly irritated. He’d majorly screwed things up for them, he knew that much. But at the same time, his blood heated in a way it hadn’t for a very long time. Things started looking... interesting.

He caught himself before he grinned. Annie would hand him his ass on a platter if he’d smiled outright. But death and violence tasted like ambrosia- sweet, heady, stuff of gods. And it seemed like he’d be binging on both in the near future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if you're offended by this Eren, but he really is a psychopath. I don't expect this work to be very long, so maybe a couple more chapters and that's it.


	2. Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indulging his carnal desires, Eren has killed Erd Gin, a member of the Razvedka group, and Levi's right-hand. And so following the unwritten rules of the underworld, top dogs of both syndicates hold a clandestine meeting to discuss Eren's blood price. Eren meets the sociopathic crime lord. And like calls to like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually update this fast. Oh well, it's a short chapter.

Mikasa’s eyes went icy cold when the three of them stepped out of the elevator. Eren could have sworn Berthold let out a low whimper.

Annie, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat, shoulders squared resolutely, chin lifted, footsteps snapping sharply across the marble. She wore stilettos, and Eren only remembered what those pointy-heeled menaces were coined, because he owned a couple of stilettos- not of the footwear variety- in his closet.

Guns, Mikasa insisted, had more practical value. But blades lent him a certain… intimacy with the prey. It made the kills more meaningful. You could even call it a form of respect for the soon-to-be-dead. Guns made quick work of humans, but knives had an up-close-and-personal quality to them.

“Berthold, Leonhardt, what’s Eren doing here?”

“Still trying to smother the idiot, Ackerman?” the blonde shot back.

Mikasa’s eyes narrowed, and Eren stepped up, “We ran into Annie when she was heading out. And I know damned well that Annie doesn’t work late nights or early mornings. So stop trying to pick a fight with either of them.”

“Eren, for the love of god, these people hold a grudge against you. I’ve no idea how they could take their man’s death. I didn’t want you here because it might push negotiations in the wrong direction, not because I’m babying you.”

“I killed the guy, Mikasa. If I don’t show up, I’d look like a brat, relying on others to clean up his crap.”

“You do rely on us to clean up your crap,” Annie deadpanned.

Eren shrugged, “Of course. They just don’t need to know that.”

“This isn’t about your image, Eren,” Armin interceded, coming up from behind Mikasa, that traitorous best friend, “It’s the Razvedka, you know how thinly we need to tread when we’re dealing with them. You know how dangerous it is. Don’t try to pretend that you don’t.”

Sometimes, Armin saw things too well. Eren curled his lips, as Mikasa and Annie turned their furious glares on him. Mikasa’s eyes darkened, from that lovely pale shade of silver to the tumulus grey of storm clouds. Annie’s went from ice-blue to the deep, dark navy of raging seas.

“Eren, you’re not thinking of what I think you’re thinking.”

“I can’t say. I don’t have a clue of what you’re thinking. It’s not like I can read your mind.”

“You suicidal bastard, if you drag me into your games, I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for a week,” Annie warned, voice laced with threat.

Eren bit back a grin, “That would be… anatomically impossible.”

“Just try me.”

“You lay your filthy hands on Eren and I’ll cut them off, Leonhardt.”

Armin groaned, rubbing circles at his temple, “Can we save the squabbling for after we meet with the Razvedka, guys?”

Both women turned to face him, eyes flashing, lips thin, an obvious indication of their displeasure. But then they looked away in the next second, and forcibly relaxed. Mikasa ran a hand through her glossy chestnut brown hair, while Annie casually adjusted the Mont Blanc cufflink on her right sleeve.

The door leading to the staircase opened a moment later, and Eren saw a flash of blond hair, along with a bulky male silhouette.

“The tension’s high enough to choke me and the Boy Scouts aren’t even here yet,” Reiner laughed as he approached them, “What’s got your knickers in a twist, ladies?”

Just like that, the poisonous hostility that lingered beneath Mikasa’s and Annie’s calm veneer dissolved. Reiner could be pretty damned useful in smoothing things over amongst them. Armin’s magic worked like a charm on strangers, but Reiner’s did well within their little band of screwed over misfits.

“Eren, I thought you were catching up on your z’s.”

“And leave the fun to you guys? No fucking way.”

“ _Eren_ ,” came the almost unanimous chorus of half-annoyed, half-resigned voices. _Busted_. Goddammit.

“Do I have to beat some self-preservation into you?” Mikasa grabbed him by his shoulders, shaking him slightly.

“I’d gladly beat you up, either way,” Annie snarled, anger a scarlet tint high on her cheeks.

Mikasa swung around, and Reiner immediately put himself between them, “No one’s beating anyone up, all right? Not at the moment, anyway. We’ve got more important things to deal with.”

“Things we wouldn’t have to deal with if Eren could curb his raging lusts,” Annie griped, “You owe me half your bonus for overtime, suicidal bastard.”

“It’s not like I need the bonus in the first place,” he shrugged.

Annie paused, then rolled her eyes and stalked off to their meeting room. Berthold quietly followed suit, with his lover a large blond shadow after him.

“Eren, stay with Armin, his silver tongue might have some help in mitigating your vulgar potty-mouth,” Mikasa told him.

“I’ll be fine, quiet as a dormouse. I’m not about to send all of us to our graves, Mikasa. You know I wouldn’t do that to you or Armin. Or Reiner, or Berthold, or Annie.”

“I’m not saying that you’d purposefully bring harm upon us, Eren. It’s just… Eren is straightforward, and pure. The humans we’ll meet are ugly and dirty. They won’t understand the honest and beautiful Eren.”

“Mikasa, I’m a murderer. And I’m as deep into this as any of you are. We live by sending people into the depths of hell and keeping them there. I’m as dirty as anyone can get.”

“Eren is like a wolf, noble and forthright, killing to defend his pack, killing to ease his hunger. Unlike these humans who give themselves flimsy excuses and step on their brethren for fleeting material pleasures, Eren is pure.”

Eren would have said something, denied it. But Mikasa stiffened in the next second, and he felt a prickle of awareness raise the hairs on the back of his neck. It wasn’t so much that they heard anything, but the atmosphere in the building took a sudden plunge, as if death had simply sauntered through their doors.

Armin whipped out his phone, rapidly scanning through their security cameras for a noticeable breach. If they hadn’t learnt to trust their instincts, they wouldn’t have made it this far.

“Mikasa Ackerman,” a voice came from the far end of the corridor, and Eren spun around to catch sight of an unlikely trio.

“Erwin Smith,” his sister easily replied from beside him, radiant smile ready on her lightly glossed lips, “I hadn’t thought we’d be meeting so soon. A pity about the… dismal circumstances.”

_Smith_ , Eren almost broke into a grin. Guy sure wasn’t subtle about fabricated aliases. The man took a step forward, warm, congenial air wrapped around him like a well-worn cloak. He had honey blond hair, not cropped like Reiner’s, but grown long enough to possess a slight wave. His eyes, a frosty turquoise, filled with a shallow sort of pleasantness. But underneath that, Eren suspected a quick, deadly mind and a ruthless personality.

“Erd Gin was one of our most loyal men, the situation is certainly troubling.”

“I hope this can be discreetly settled,” Mikasa shook his hand firmly.

The man nodded, “You’ve met Levi. This is Hanji Zoe.”

The only female of the trio approached them all too enthusiastically, all smiles and good cheer. And for once, that laughing charm seemed genuine. Eren raised a brow. He’d met those of her ilk before. He generally liked them, they were upbeat and funny, but their genetic make-up didn’t include a conscience.

Oh, they weren’t bad or evil. Eren had seen enough of the world to understand how subjective ‘evil’ was. In a way, Hanji Zoe was innocent, because there was never really any internal conflict about what was right or what was wrong.

“I’m so happy to meet you,” she grinned.

Mikasa’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but no one would have picked up on it unless they knew her well, “A pleasure.”

“You must be Arlert, the Pentagon drafts you in for big projects. You’ve an exemplary record of predicting military and political moves,” Hanji said, turning to the shorter man.

“I am. And I’ve seen you around too. You’re a leading scientist in the field of genetic engineering.”

“Oh, you flatterer, I didn’t expect you to know of my work,” Hanji Zoe smiled, “So many think we’re unethical atheists, going against God and all that.”

“Religion shouldn’t— wouldn’t, hamper humanity’s progress.”

“My sentiments, exactly! Why remain stagnant, when we can move forward? I always ask.”

Erwin Smith coughed discreetly, and the bespectacled woman straightened, as if she had her leash tugged. She spun towards Eren abruptly and gave him a bright, radiant smile.

“Eren Jaeger?”

He nodded.

“Last. Hope,” she chuckled, “Do you like killing people?”

Eren shrugged, just an elegant lift of his shoulders.

Hanji Zoe regarded him with her wide, curious baby-browns; the way a scientist did a dissected frog. Then, the last member of the trio, a short man with a slender built, spoke up, voice hard and unforgiving, “We asked you a question, brat. Are you dumb, or dumb?”

Mikasa stiffened beside him, but Eren put a reassuring hand on her elbow.

Levi, Humanity’s Strongest, was a lot less in person than he was in name. Less impressive, less intimidating, less… big. Just… _less_ , Eren pursed his lips. But he looked into the man’s sharp tawny gold eyes, and they held the frank, almost simplistic, hunger of a tiger, devoid of human complexities and emotions. It was a good look. And he came close to cracking a grin at it.

“Do you eat when you’re hungry?” he asked.

Hanji Zoe blinked, “Yes, of course.”

“I eat when I’m hungry too,” Eren smiled.

He wasn’t looking at the woman when he said that. No, his eyes were all on Humanity’s Strongest. And for the barest of moments, Eren could have sworn the man returned the smile, with a cruel, savage twist of his perfect lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This looks like it's getting longer than it's supposed to be.


	3. Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They discuss blood price, verbal sparring ensues.

Hanji reassessed her view of one Eren Jaeger. The boy, with his rich cocoa brown hair, and eyes that swam in hues of blue-green, like vibrant river beds, or shades of ocean, didn't look like the cruel demon those stories made him out to be.

Levi stared the boy down, eyes burning with an almost unnatural yellow light. Interest, Hanji noted. And that was a beautifully rare thing. Eren Jaeger roused a certain dark interest in the apathetic Levi, and that in itself made the boy a small miracle.

"Is that a threat?" Levi asked silkily.

The boy met his eyes unflinchingly. "Only if you want it to be."

The elevator doors opened. And Levi’s men came striding out, effectively putting Ackerman, Arlert and Jaeger in a vulnerable position. They'd been cornered on all sides. The look in Levi's eyes could only be described as feral, Hanji surmised with no little amusement. It had been a while since her long-time companion so obviously enjoyed himself.

"Smith," a voice came from behind them, "Early as always."

Reiner Braun stood in the open doorway at their backs, his purposefully casual posture belying a subtle threat.

"Braun, still sneaking around where others have their backs turned."

"Leaving your back open is a mark of your negligence." A petite blonde appeared at the man's back, voice lightly biting.

Levi looked at the pair blandly. "Hate to say it, but the bitch's right."

"Now, now, let's stay civil, shall we?" Erwin chastised, voice deceptively jovial.

“I am,” Levi said.

Eren Jaeger cocked his head to a side. “No one’s been less than civil up till now.”

Hanji choked back a laugh, the pair of them was a match made in heaven— No, wait, heaven was a dreary place, filled with rules, _restrictions_. They were a match made in hell. The thought made her snort in amusement, and Levi glanced sideways at her, amber eyes glinting in warning.

“Shall we proceed to somewhere more comfortable?” Ackerman suggested, the epitome of civility.

Erwin smiled, almost gratefully, probably thankful that someone still seemed to stick to decorum. “Of course, we’d be much obliged.”

They trooped into the meeting room. And Hanji’s eyes did a casual sweep of her new surroundings, taking stock of blind spots and escape routes. The glass windows were an option, if they were really desperate. Of course, they were several stories above the ground, but that didn’t render the aerial routes completely inaccessible.

Levi looked at the table and chairs critically, resisting the urge to swipe across the surface with his finger. Cleanliness had become a thing, after having brain matter stuck in his clothes, or stray bits of guts in his shoes, for possibly half his lifetime. He hadn’t wanted to meet with this group of kids, thought it’d be more efficient to settle a death with a death. But Erwin had insisted, so here he was.

The brat, Eren Jaeger, annoyed the crap out of him. Clueless, bright green eyes, innocent little-boy's voice, kid looked like jailbait. A couple of years past legal and a murderer to boot, but he looked fresh-faced and curious. Crazy-ass murderers, couldn't live with them, couldn't kill them even if you wanted to. Notoriously hardy bunch, they survived better than cockroaches.

"Erd was a good soldier, loyal and dedicated to his cause," Erwin started. "His death is a great loss in a sea of losses."

Poetic, Levi almost snorted. That man had a talent for spinning straw into gold. Ackerman snapped her fingers against the solid oak of the table, calculative glint turning her grey eyes silver.

"A death must be repaid by a death of course, nothing more, nothing less. Anything else wouldn't be fair," Ackerman said.

"We could call for the death of the perpetrator. It'd be most befitting."

Ackerman's eyes narrowed. "Erd Gin is but a bishop on your chess board. We are hardly generous enough to forsake our king for a minor chess piece."

"A death for a death, whose death do you offer in blood price?” Erwin asked.

“A death for a death of equal value,” Ackerman stressed. “Whose death do you ask for in blood price?”

Erwin withdrew a slip of paper from his coat pocket and slid it across the table. Ackerman pinned it with a finger, passing it to her pretty boy toy, without so much glancing at it.

Arlert unfolded the paper, voice unaffected when he spoke. “Ymir Reiss? She’s the adopted daughter of Reiss Enterprise.”

“That’s the official word out. To be accurate, she’s the guard dog trained to protect the Reiss family from birth,” Braun said.

His boyfriend leaned in towards him, trying to peer at the picture. “What’s the Razvedka got to gain in doing away with the Reiss’ guard dog?”

“I don’t think that information is pertinent in this discussion,” Erwin said, smiling. “We’re discussing blood price, we don’t need to explain why we want her killed.”

Jaeger chose just that moment to snatch the photo away from blondie. “Hey, I know her, she’s the Dancing Queen.”

Dancing- What the fuck? Levi stopped the snort of laughter coming up from the bottom of his throat. Fuck, that Jaeger was an eloquent piece of shit.

Hanji didn’t bother to keep her chortling down, just burst out laughing in the loud, braying way she always had. Behind him, Auruo and Gunter sounded as if they were choking. And Erwin smiled in that goddamned creepy way of his.

“You know her, Eren?” Erwin asked.

“We haven’t talked much, but yeah, I know her.”

“The Dancing Queen,” Auruo repeated incredulously. “Sure’s an impressive title, all right.”

“So is Humanity’s Strongest.”

Levi stiffened. Hell, he knew what they called him behind his back. But no one said it to his face before. Jaeger blinked his liquid-emerald Bambi eyes, all fawn-like and serial-killer-innocent. Ackerman leaned in close, and Levi didn’t miss the little tightening around the brat’s eyes, indicating his sister had just kicked him under the table.

Jaeger smiled, as innocuous as a stripper on a pole. “No offense.”

“Oh, we understand. ‘Humanity’s Strongest’ is a pretty big title after all,” Hanji chuckled.

The kid grinned. “Yeah, it’s larger than life, you can say.”

Hanji, that traitor, burst out laughing again. And Jaeger simpered at him, looking like a cat with a mouth full of feathers.

“Aren’t we all feeling just chipper at four fucking A. M.?” Levi remarked drily, “Seems like Eren has no problems taking the Dancing Queen out for a spin.”

Ackerman touched her brother’s hand in warning, but the brat didn’t turn to her, just continued to grin at Levi a little recklessly. “I have no problems taking _anyone_ out for a spin.”

Levi raised a brow. “Aren’t you a few years shy of being able to do the horizontal tango?”

“The horizontal tango-” It took a few moments, but the kid’s cheeks flamed a bright, shiny red. Cute, Levi snorted. Guess that brat wasn’t the type of killer who got off his rocks by cutting up human bodies. He filed that information away for further study.

“Not that you have the luxury of getting around, I suppose. Considering the shit you get up to at night. Tell you what, write me an email on your sweet sixteen and I’ll have a couple of hookers delivered to your doorstep. You like them blond, don’t you?”

Jaeger glared at him. “I’m years past legal, old man.”

“No? Don’t like them blond? Thought you did. Shoulder-length blond hair, and shit brown eyes, ain’t that your type, Jaeger?”

The brat froze and paled. Ackerman snarled, shifting closer to her brother protectively. And Arlert put a restraining hand on her, pale blue eyes sharp with calculation.

“Thought you always went after those types,” Levi continued, unfazed. “Climbed through their windows, hid in their closets, slit their throats when they’re asleep.”

The boy didn’t say a thing, just stared straight on with his lips set in a hard line. Arlert had to physically restrain Ackerman from going after his throat.

“Window-climbing and closet-hiding are so passé,” Jaeger said lightly.

“Eren’s sexual preferences are none of your concern,” Ackerman snapped.

Even Levi had to crack a grin at that, goddammit that quote had to be a classic. Jaeger blushed to the tip of his ears, as the occupants in the room started having unexplainable coughing fits. Ackerman didn’t seem to find it funny though. She just glared at him coldly. That girl had no sense of humour.

Arlert cleared his throat. “Well… Eren’s sexual preferences– I mean, his hobbies aside, if the death of one Ymir Reiss is the blood price required to put all of this behind us, I think that’s quite fair. Don’t you, Mikasa?”

Ackerman didn’t answer and Levi raised a brow. She was glaring hard enough you’d think she’d be able to glare a hole through him. Arlert fidgeted a little, before Jaeger lost his temper and slammed his palm on the table. “I’ll take her.”

“What? You’ll take her- No! Eren, no,” Ackerman started, turning, “Absolutely not, you’re not going to put yourself in danger.”

“I thought the brat’s old enough to choose his own girlfriends,” Levi commented.

“I _can_ choose my own-”

Ackerman cut in. “Eren doesn’t have girlfriends.”

“The hell, Mikasa,” Jaeger spat, “This isn’t a session of meet-the-in-laws. Can we not finish a proper business meeting without discussing my sexual preferences, girlfriends or lack thereof?”

The shitty glasses beside him looked absolutely delighted with the exchange going on. She probably thought them brilliant test subjects, with that dewy-eyed, love-struck look of hers. Levi crossed his legs. Well, the brat was entertaining enough, at least.

“Leonhardt, I think Ymir Reiss is right up your alley,” Ackerman suggested icily.

The other girl blinked. “I don’t think I’m paid enough to wipe Eren’s ass.”

“Really, guys? Really? We’re talking about wiping my ass now?”

Reiner Braun fished the photograph out from the siblings’ little tug-of-war. “All right, settle down, sweethearts. I think Bert and I are well-equipped for the job.”

Jaeger stared at him wordlessly, and the larger man quickly clarified. “Taking out Ymir Reiss, I mean, not wiping… Well, not that.”

“Well,” Erwin said easily, having seen more than enough, “We’ve no qualms, as long as the job gets done. We meet in two weeks, with proof of the completed… contract, of course.”

Levi stood, Erwin and Hanji following soon after. As they walked out of the room, he made a point of casually brushing his fingertips across the brat’s nape, just to watch Ackerman’s reaction. She didn’t disappoint, eyes narrowing at him, lips thinning.

“See you in two weeks, brat.” He could have sworn he heard something crash the moment they were out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow wait! Don't worry, I'm not abandoning this, just making really, really slow progress...


	4. Lilies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They pay Eren a visit.

Jean Kirschtein crossed his arms in front of his chest, as his partner dealt with the vic. Rape was always ugly. He didn’t understand how scumbags could fuck someone up, both literally and figuratively, and just go on with their lives. He’d seen too many shell-shocked, broken girls – and boys – too many to count, too many for one lifetime.

Marco was talking to the kid, his voice gentle and soothing. Yeah, Marco was good at that – always had been. Jean just made them shrink in fear when he got close.

“You need to see a doctor, sweetheart,” Marco said.

The girl shook her head violently.

“Don’t worry, you’re fine now. You’re okay.”

“I- I don’t want- to- to see a doctor-”

“Dr Jaeger is a nice person,” Marco smiled. ‘A nice _person_ ’, he’d been careful to leave the good doctor’s gender out.

“Dr… Jaeger?”

Marco nodded encouragingly. “Yes, the hospital’s just around the corner.”

“Dr Eren Jaeger?” the girl’s eyes lit in recognition.

Jean bit back a curse. That guy was too damned famous for his own good. His pretty boy face was everywhere – on host shows, on magazine covers, on television adverts for god’s sake.

“Yes, Eren,” Marco replied easily. “He’s very nice.”

“I don’t want to.”

Marco’s smile faltered for a moment, before it flared back in full force. “You don’t have to worry, Eren’s a good doctor. You’re safe now, you’re okay.”

“No,” she said, voice almost sharp. “No.”

Jean came close to snorting. The one girl who didn’t want to see Eren Jaeger and it had to be the one they needed Jaeger to collect a rape kit from. His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Marco gave him a look.

The girl didn’t seem to sense anything though, so he figured he hadn’t lost his cop face. Marco just read him real well. You could say that, after years of being shot at and nearly biting the bullet together, they had a special kind of connection. It was either that, or his pounding into Marco every night melded their souls into one– He snickered.

Marco raised a brow at him, and the girl stared. Jean cleared his throat, smoothing his expression out. Nah, he didn’t believe in that fancy mythological crap. Fucking was just fucking, everyone could do it. But the crap he and Marco went through together, that was what made them real partners.

“There’ll be nurses around. And Eren won’t do anything that you’re not comfortable with,” Marco cajoled.

“He… He won’t?”

“I promise.”

The girl went silent for a few moments, before she gave a weak nod. Marco beamed, and it was a nice happy smile that made people put their guards down. The girl allowed him to help her up, putting her small, fragile hand in his.

The medics came in then, gently guiding her to the ambulance, and Jean nodded at Marco.

“Are we going to make a trip down to Jaeger’s? You still have an appointment with Mina. That wrist giving you problems?”

Marco flexed his hand. His wrist was all healed up, Jean knew that. But being the bleeding heart he was, Marco would use it as an excuse to make sure the girl was fine, even without Jean’s prompting. “It’s a little stiff, nothing big.”

“Still, best to go for your scheduled check-up, till the doc says it’s okay,” Jean played along good-naturedly, but a part of him meant what he said. He worried about Marco at times. The guy was too good for his own good. Then again, that was what made Marco… Marco.

“I’m not in pain, really.”

Jean got into the driver’s seat, starting the engine as he pointed out. “That’s what you always say.”

“That’s because it’s true,” Marco insisted, calling shotgun. “It’s nothing.”

“And that’s what you said when a bullet blew a hole clean through your shoulder five months ago. That it’s ‘nothing’. A hole through your shoulder’s nothing. I know you’re you’ve got nerves of steel, Marco. But there’s a line between that, and a suicidal lack of self-preservation.”

“Eyes on the road – and you know I can take care of myself.”

“You can, but you take better care of others. And that’s becoming a problem.”

Marco was silent for a moment. “I’m a cop. It’s my job to save lives.”

“Saving lives? We’re not Superman; we’re not… what’s the comic that’s pretty big these days? We’re not wire-grappling, blade-wielding soldiers, fighting for humanity’s survival. We’re not them. There’s no big bad evil in this world. We… We’re not always the good guys.”

“We’re not,” Marco agreed, “But we can try to be the good guys at least. We can try.”

“You’re still the righteous idiot I had the goddamned misfortune to know from the academy.”

“Idiot’s a little harsh,” Marco laughed.

Jean pulled into the hospital, finding an empty lot easily. They were way past visiting hours.

“Idiot’s the perfect word to describe you, idiot.”

They got out of the car. Marco smiled, eyes crinkling, and Jean felt something twist his gut. Idiot. Marco was a goddamned idiot. But he loved Marco – so that made him an idiot too, didn’t it?

The hospital smelled of bleach and disinfectant, an unnerving smell. Jean wrinkled his nose as the automatic doors slid open noiselessly. He didn’t like it. The smell hid darker, bloodier things. It was a mask, a façade, a lie. He didn’t know why he hated it that much, but…

He looked forward, at the figure striding towards them. Well, maybe he did.

“Eren!” Marco greeted.

“Marco, what’s up?” The doctor’s voice held a trace of a snicker, and Jean’s eyes narrowed. Marco called Jean an over-protective, paranoid dummy the last time he brought up Jaeger’s inconsistencies, but… Something felt off. He could feel it. Spidey senses, or whatever, he felt it. Jaeger wasn’t… normal.

Well, of course, he wasn’t normal. Normal people didn’t have their faces on advertisements, and magazine covers. But Jaeger wasn’t normal in a bad way. As if he heard that thought, the doctor turned and smiled – no, smirked – at him. “Detective, hard day at work?”

“Nothing more than the usual.”

“Good, good,” Eren chuckled. “Marco, here to see Mina? She’s on night shift today, well… you should know. She’s been hounding you to come for your check-up, after all.”

“Yes. But I was wondering if I could ask about the girl they brought in a little earlier.”

Eren raised a brow. “I haven’t seen to her – I’m just about to, actually. Someone you know?”

“Not personally, no.”

“I see. Picked her off the streets?”

“That one doesn’t look like a hooker to me, if that’s where your mind’s going, doc,” Jean snorted.

He said ‘doc’ the way someone else might have said ‘dick’, disgust coated with a thin layer of taunting. Kirschtein didn’t like him, Eren knew that. The detective never made it a point to hide his animosity. He had a sharp sense, sharper than most people. Eren would give him that much. Most people just saw the doctor –responsible, considerate, generous… And they weren’t particularly wrong. The doctor existed.

It was his duty, to carry on in his father’s stead. He would never let his parents’ down. They would have wanted him to follow his father’s footsteps, as the responsible, considerate, generous doctor. They would have wanted this. Eren smiled at the good policemen. The doctor wasn’t a lie, the doctor was real, but it wasn’t all of him.

“What is it, Jaeger?” Jean frowned.

“Nothing much, it just struck me that your face is extremely meme-worthy. Extremely,” Eren grinned. The detective frowned harder.

“Jean, stop glaring at Eren, you’re going to get wrinkles.”

Eren turned his glance back to his clipboard, resisting the urge to laugh. It took a few seconds to squelch the chuckle threatening to bubble out. Then, he looked up at Marco, lips twitching a little. He didn’t think either of them would catch it, but Kirschtein stiffened.

“I have her details here,” Eren offered. “Blonde. Blue eyes. Four feet nine inches in height. Is that the one?”

“Yes, she’s a fragile-looking thing.”

Eren tapped his pen against his clipboard. “And, presumably, not a lady of the night?”

“She looks like the real classy sort, soft, well-bred, sheltered,” Jean said.

“On the streets alone at this time of the day– real sheltered, I’d say. This city isn’t the safest when it’s dark out, after all.”

“I thought being sympathetic and kind and all that bullshit’s part of your job description. Ain’t like a doctor to be bitching about how sheltered your patient is.”

“I prefer the term ‘speculating’.”

“Fine, it ain’t like a doctor to be speculating about how sheltered your patient is,” Jean sniped.

Fed up with all the macho posturing, Marco elbowed his partner in the ribs before grabbing Jean’s arm and leading him away. “It’s getting late, so I guess we’d be going. Could you update me about the girl when you’ve seen to her, Eren?”

“Sure thing. I’ll whatsapp.”

Jean glowered at his boyfriend. “Whatsapp? You have him on whatsapp?”

“Don’t throw a hissy fit. I can whatsapp you too, Kirschtein,” Eren called out.

The detective flipped him off as they left, and Eren turned back to the form on his clipboard, continuing on his way. Why was a sheltered little princess out alone in the dead of the night? He ran a finger over the neat, even strokes that made up her name. The handwriting was a little too… controlled, a little too forced, unnatural.

His meeting with the Razvedka’s core members, with Humanity’s Strongest, the night before still played fresh in his mind. Eren clicked his pen a little irritably. Had they lied about the blood price? Did they think to get his guard down before taking him out? He took his phone from his pocket– with half a mind to ring up Mikasa or Armin.

It didn’t make sense. Erwin Smith was a manipulative bastard and Hanji Zoe a loose cannon. Now, Levi… Humanity’s Strongest, had all the honesty and hunger of a wild animal. Throwing everything to the wind after that careful setup, it didn’t feel like how any of them would roll. Eren breathed in deep, and blew out his breath noisily. Not the Razvedka then. But he could take a pretty good guess at Princess’ not-so-secret identity.

He slipped his phone back into his coat’s pocket and brushed his fingers over the knife sheath at his back. Dealing with his side job while at work was a pain in the ass, but some things couldn’t be helped. The familiar feel of metal against his fingertips calmed him. It helped to keep his mind sharp and clear.

Smile ready on his lips, Eren walked through the door with an easy gait. “Well, how are you feeling–” he looked down to check her alias, “Krista Lenz?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've a vague idea of where this is going, but it's going to take me some time to get there. Sorry for the excruciating slowness.


End file.
